


Buried Alive!

by MistressofHappyEndings



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Brotherly Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 18:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18482287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressofHappyEndings/pseuds/MistressofHappyEndings
Summary: Rhett suffers after drinking something he shouldn't have, and the people in his life band together to help him.





	Buried Alive!

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the second part of a larger story arc I've been thinking of writing, but it's the part that wanted to be completed first … so, here you go. Feel free to let me know what you think in the comments or with kudos. Who knows, maybe I'll finally get my muse to write the first part ...

A soft puff of air against his Adam’s apple, the merest breath of a moan, makes Link pause his careful, gentle ministrations. He leaves his hands where they are as he tilts his head down towards the one resting heavily on his chest. 

“Okay?” he softly asks. 

All he gets in return is another quiet moan, but he didn’t really expect anything more than that. When the pain reaches these levels, Rhett is completely nonverbal until Link can make some of that pain go away. They haven’t been lying here all that long, and Link knows they are going to be here for a while longer before they make any progress. 

Ever since Rhett had accidentally drunk the mystery contents in a Dr. Pepper bottle sent to them in the mail, he has been subjected to bouts of terrible migraines and hallucinations. They fortunately weren’t as severe as the ones that had plagued him that first week after he had ingested the liquid, nor did they last as long, but the sheer randomness of the attacks makes them all the more terrifying and debilitating. Whether Rhett is healthy or sick, tired or alert, happy or angry, there doesn’t seem to be any pattern they can predict. 

As soon as the doctors had warned them that this was a likely side effect of the few known components in the drink, Jessie and Link had joined forces to find out what they could do to help Rhett. Several intense research sessions later, aided by the Mythical crew, had revealed depressingly little. There isn’t any painkiller or sedative they can give him that either won’t make the situation worse or do nothing at all, and no one knows when, if ever, these fits will stop popping up. All any of them can do is keep a close eye on Rhett and try to manage the symptoms as they occur. 

It takes time, trial, and a whole lot of error before Jessie and Link find the best way to keep Rhett from hurting himself or others (Chase didn’t hold a grudge for the broken nose, but someone else might not be as forgiving) during one of these fits. Whether it is Jessie or Link – Rhett allows no one else close in these moments without reacting with terrified violence - one of them would find him a quiet, dark space, preferably with a bed in it, and arrange those long limbs of his so that he is curled up in their embrace. Once settled, they hold onto him as tight as they can and keep up a steady stream of low, soothing chatter for him to focus on through the hallucinations and pain. Sometimes it takes minutes, oftentimes much longer, before he returns to himself, but neither his wife nor his brother leave him alone for a second of it. 

(The one time neither of them had been with Rhett during an attack haunted Jessie and Link still. The strangled whimpers, the bloody mess he’d made of his face by clawing at his eyes and ears to make the visions stop, the way his muscles had all locked up in his terror – he’d looked like a victim from a horror movie. They’d had to take him to the hospital that day, and they didn’t get him back for a week. Stevie had since set up a schedule at the studio to insure that someone was within shouting distance of Rhett ever since, and Christy had done the same for off-hours. Jessie and Link made certain to keep their phones on and fully charged in case of an emergency call. 

… the fact that Rhett hadn’t once protested their overprotectiveness spoke volumes on how deeply the experience had shaken him, too.) 

Today, it is Link’s turn to watch over his brother. He’d come over earlier in the morning to help Rhett repair his deck while Jessie has taken the boys out to keep them from being underfoot. Everything is rolling along just fine. The weather is a perfect example of a sunny, spring day in California. The deck is coming along nicely. The banter flows between them in an easy rhythm, and they even come up with a few ideas for a new song or two. The rate they’re going, they’ll be done before dark, and they enthusiastically discuss grilling steak kabobs for dinner. 

Link is still chuckling at one of Rhett’s quirky observations as he walks around the corner of the house to where the lumber for the deck is stacked. He picks up several boards and hefts them onto his good shoulder to take back to where they are working when he hears it - a strangled screech followed by moan and a plea in the form of a butchered version of his name. 

“L-l-link? Li --!” 

The planks crash to the ground as Link sprints around the corner to find Rhett bent at the waist, his nails scratching grooves deep into his scalp to try and tear out whatever terrifying image is dancing before his mind’s eye. He’s still trying to say Link’s name. Harshly suppressing the dread rising in his chest, Link swiftly moves towards Rhett, shucking his goggles and work gloves along the way; but before he can reach Rhett, his brother sways and staggers to his knees. 

Link is there before he can crash face first into the ground. He loops his arms around Rhett’s shoulders and cradles him close. Rhett presses his forehead hard into Link’s breastbone, his hands jumping from his head to clutch Link’s waist with desperate intensity, repeating Link’s name over and over again in the same broken plea for relief. 

“Ssssh, sssh, I’m here, I’ve got you,” Link assures quietly, threading the fingers of one hand through the blond hair, trying to avoid the gouges that Rhett’s panic has left behind. He feels a tacky wetness against his fingertips and knows he isn’t successful despite his care. Caught up in the horrors in his head, though, Rhett doesn’t even flinch. “You’re safe, we’re both safe, nothing can hurt us here, brother.” 

Except … His eyes flicker over to the nail gun that Rhett has been using all morning. Relief briefly floods through him when he sees that it’s turned off. Rhett had apparently had enough of a warning to turn the tool off before the attack hit him fully. Link had deactivated his own gun before leaving to get the planks … so, not a liar. 

“I’m here,” Link repeats with fierce conviction. He curls over the body in his arms to speak as directly into Rhett’s ear as the position will allow. “You aren’t alone, bo. I’m gonna get you through this, just like always, just like forever if that’s what it comes to. I’ve got you.” 

Tears of his own fall unchecked down Link’s face as he speaks these truths. To see his blood brother hurting so badly and not to be able to do more to take the pain and fear away is an agony all of its own. It would be so much easier, Link thinks for the thousandth time, to take this burden onto himself than to watch Rhett suffer like this. But he can’t, and it’s a selfish thing to think, anyway. No matter which of them was physically hurting, the other would suffer just as much. That’s the way it has always been between them, one feeling the other’s hurts as deeply as if they are his own, ever since they were children. 

But if he ever found out who did this to Rhett – to them – throwing a few punches would be the least of what he’d do to the bastard. 

A quiet whimper cuts through the rage and grief storming in Link’s heart. He shakes his head to clear them from his thoughts and focuses back on what’s important now. He’ll deal with them later, after he’s made sure Rhett’s okay. 

Link keeps him close in his embrace and shushes him until Rhett’s whimpers quiet for a moment. This is the calm before the real hurricane of pain and terror hits, and he knows he only has a limited amount of time to get Rhett settled. With some difficulty, Link is able to get the afflicted man to his feet and support him, blind and stumbling, out of the backyard and into his bedroom. As Link moves to close the curtains, he checks the time on his phone. He sends a quick text to Jessie to warn her about what’s going on, trusting her to fill Christy in, then turns as Rhett quietly calls to him. 

“I’m here, Rhett, I’m here,” Link reassures automatically as he moves back to kneel at Rhett’s feet to remove his shoes. He starts a little when he feels a trembling hand land on his bent head. He looks up into Rhett’s wide, frightened eyes and feels his heart lurch at his brother’s distress. He catches the cold, trembling hand between his own and flattens it against his chest. “What is it, bo?” 

“This one’s gonna be bad, Link, I can feel it. Worse than all the others,” Rhett whispers, the tremors spreading from his hand to shake his whole body. His voice sounds like he’s swallowed a glass of razor blades, and they have barely even started yet. Link shudders to think what it’s going to sound like by the end of this. He swallows against a hard knot of fear and bile rising in his throat before he tries to speak again. 

“Okay, Rhett, okay, I hear you,” he says quietly into the small pocket of space between them, squeezing the hand against his chest in emphasis. “I’m with you, just remember that, and I won’t leave you alone. Let’s – let’s just get you lying down, all right?” 

Rhett manages a tiny nod, his eyes never leaving Link’s as the smaller of the pair pushes himself to his feet long enough to kick off his own shoes and toss his phone onto the nightstand. He maneuvers his friend down onto the mattress as gently as he can then follows up after him. Rhett contorts himself into a sideways position between Link’s parted legs, arms once more constricting around Link’s torso, his breath tremulous and agonized. He’s shivering, but they don’t dare draw the blankets up around him. He’ll find it too confining in just a few minutes and only fight all the harder. Link shifts slightly to alleviate the uncomfortable pressure of Rhett’s hipbone against the crux of his legs, settling his own arms around Rhett’s shoulders so the other man understands he’s not trying to push him away. He starts talking in a low, even tone, his hands drifting into the mussed, blond hair, massaging in a gentle counterpoint to the misery twisting just below Rhett’s overheated skin. 

Rhett looks up at Link, searches his face for what, Link doesn’t know but hopes he finds it, then his brows crumple into a terrible expression as the storm finally hits. Link raises his knees to keep Rhett caged in as the other man writhes against him, fighting viciously against his tortured imagination. 

It’s every bit as bad as Rhett has prophesied. 

Long, ululating screams spill out into Link’s chest over and over, shattering Link’s heart and his eardrums with the pain contained within them. He alternates the screams with a gnashing of his teeth, sometimes catching the soft material of Link’s t-shirt, sometimes catching the flesh beneath. He pounds his hands against the bedding and his best friend with equal ferocity, and he nearly escapes Link’s hold with a particularly strong twist of his body. He howls as the movement wreaks havoc on his already damaged spine and clamps down hard on the cap of Link’s shoulder. Link’s startled yelp and the sudden taste of copper and salt in his mouth is lost in the maelstrom of his mind. Another scream abruptly breaks the bite, and the cycle continues. 

It seems to take forever before the screaming finally grinds to a halt, and Rhett is reduced to a silent, violent body-wide shaking. He burrows deeper into the warmth beneath him, instinctively trying to hide away from the pain inside the safest place he knows. Link would let him, if he could, would readily crack open his ribcage and nestle his wounded brother against the steady thump of his heart until all the hurt went away and he was whole again. But wretchedly, he cannot. Instead, Link ignores the deep ache in his muscles and just tightens his limbs around Rhett in as soothing an embrace as he can. 

After another small eternity, the tremors wracking Rhett’s body finally cease, and he lies in his post-attack enervated state. The pain isn’t entirely gone, its presence etched in the deep lines on Rhett’s forehead and the stark white of his knuckles clenched in Link’s shirt, but his breathing and his heartbeat have slowed into a more even rhythm, and that’s really more than Link expected at this juncture. He stares down at the sweat-matted head of his best friend in puzzled wonder. 

The fits usually last longer than this, but Rhett doesn’t seem to be gearing up for another round. If anything, though he can’t speak yet, he seems to be relaxing further into Link and the mattress, almost like he’s drifting off to sleep. Link spares a glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand, and his eyes widen in surprise. As intense as the attack had been, it has only lasted for about twenty minutes. 

The previous record had been over an hour. 

Hope stirs in Link’s heart at this revelation. The doctors had said that Rhett’s symptoms were likely to gradually abate, and there was even a chance that they would cease all together. But their words had been cautious at best, pessimistic at worst, and Link had really come to hate the office visits for the resigned fear that shone in Rhett’s eyes after each one. In an effort to help, Christy and Stevie had kept dutiful track of the time, duration, and intensity of each of Rhett’s attacks, hoping to find a pattern that would help predict them or, better yet, prove the doctors’ hesitant diagnosis correct. But none of them had really seen any improvement in the past months, and they had all, whether they wanted to admit it or not, begun to slowly lose any optimism. 

This, though … this may be the miracle they are waiting for. Closing his eyes, Link bows his head and offers up a fervent plea that this isn’t a one-time thing and that this is a sign that his brother’s suffering will soon come to an end. He ends the prayer with a heartfelt amen and a brief kiss to the crown of Rhett’s head. 

Rhett hmms at the gentle touch and nuzzles once against Link’s chest in response. He sluggishly curls his legs up into a loose fetal position and presses closer to Link’s warmth as a shiver runs through the long length of his body. Link frowns as he feels the shiver. He flips the blankets over them both and tucks them carefully around Rhett’s shoulders. He leaves one hand curled around his brother’s shoulder, the other migrates back to his head and resumes the gentle stroking through his sweat-matted hair. A silence settles softly between them. 

After some time, a small sound catches Link’s attention, and he turns his head towards the bedroom doorway. Two small blond heads peek out at him from around the door. 

“Hi, Uncle Link,” Shepherd whispers, his eyes darting between his father and his uncle, curiosity bright in their depths. 

Link instinctively cups his hand over Rhett’s ear to block out as much noise as possible before he quietly asks, “Boys, what are you doin’?” 

“Mommy said you and Daddy were taking a nap. We just wanted to take a nap with you,” Locke answers, a little louder and a little bolder than his brother. He takes a step around the door and into the room. 

“Please say we can,” Shepherd begs. 

They stare at him with hopeful eyes, and Link feels himself torn. He knows the past months have been just as hard on the boys as it has been on the rest of them. They miss their father in ways they don’t really understand, and the attacks have scared them on more than one occasion despite the best efforts of their parents. They just want to spend time with Rhett, and Link wants to let them, he really does. But he can feel how tense with lingering pain his brother still is as he lays in his arms, and he’s not sure that two rambunctious little boys are something that Rhett can handle in his state right now. 

Link hesitates a beat too long. Before he can stop him, Rhett slowly unfurls under his hands and shifts onto his back. He takes a deep, careful breath, then another, before he opens his eyes. Turning his head towards the doorway, he manages a small smile and beckons to the two boys. 

“Course you can. Come on over here, you two.” 

His voice sounds like it’s forced out through a meat grinder, so opposite his normal smooth drawl that the boys hesitate. They both look up at Link for reassurance that it really is all right to come closer. Link regards Rhett for a short moment, then he nods and waves them closer. 

“It’s all right, boys. You can come on up.” 

The last word barely leaves his mouth before the two are scrambling across the room. Shepherd uses Link’s outstretched arm to pull himself up onto the bed. He sprawls in the way only children can over his uncle’s leg and promptly snuggles down into his father’s chest. Rhett’s lips press together tightly at the jostling, but he doesn’t let a sound escape him as he adjusts his youngest into a more comfortable position. Locke moves at a slightly more sedate pace, circling around the bed to clamber up the other side. Instead of copying his brother, he tucks himself against the outside of Link’s leg and slips one arm through Rhett’s. 

Link keeps a sharp eye on both children, ready to intervene if needed. No matter how much he loves Rhett’s boys as if they were his own, their father’s health is his paramount concern at the moment. He fully expects the young pair to be too loud and squirmy to actually nap, but Rhett speaks softly with his sons for a few minutes before, miraculously, all three fall into sleep at nearly the same time. 

No sooner does Link realize this than he also realizes that he’s now thoroughly pinned in place by the three sleeping McLaughlins. He shakes his head in wry amusement at his predicament and tries to shift under the bodies into a more sustainable position against the headboard. The attempt is doomed to failure, and Link resigns himself to playing pillow for his bedmates. He sets his glasses on the nightstand and leans his head back against the wall. Resting one hand on Rhett’s forehead, he closes his eyes and lets himself drift off into a light doze of his own. 

*** 

Jessie stands in the open doorway of the bedroom she shared with Rhett, one hand over her mouth. She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the scene before her, but she does feel a swell of gratitude and love for the occupants on her bed. 

She had noticed a suspicious silence filling the house about five minutes ago, and she had immediately started to investigate. She had explained to Shepherd and Locke on the abrupt return trip home that their father was sick and taking a nap with their Uncle Link, who was looking after him. She had told them that they would have to be quiet when they got home so as not to disturb either of them, but there is quiet and then there is _quiet_. Her boys, bless them, are too active not to make some kind of noise, but no matter how anxious the boys are to see their father, Rhett needs peace right now more than anything. 

It doesn’t take her long to find the missing pair, and Jessie isn’t all that surprised at where she finds them. It isn’t even a surprise to find Link also in her bed with the entirety of her family or just how right it seems for him to be there. He’s been such always been such a large part of their lives, even more so in the past few months, and in any case, Link would never leave Rhett until he is sure that his brother is sufficiently recovered from this latest attack. He’s right where he’s supposed to be. 

She must have made some kind of noise because Link’s eyes blink open in a sleepily endearing way. Jessie hurries as quietly across the room as she can to sit on the bed behind Shepherd. 

“I’m so sorry, Link, I didn’t think they’d come in here and bother you both,” she whispers as she reaches to lift her youngest son up. Her eyes widen when she sees the red blossoming across the top of his shoulder. “Oh, Link …” 

Link follows her glance, the ache from Rhett’s bite flaring up with sudden intensity, and winces. He hurriedly looks away. He has managed to ignore it up until now, too concerned about Rhett to care about it. It certainly hurts like the devil now, and he knows that human bites are the worst when it comes to possible infection. He probably should have attended to it earlier, but how could he care about something so relatively minor when his brother was suffering? 

Without waiting for Link to reply, Jessie sits back and fumbles for the drawer to her nightstand. Inside is a well-stocked first aid kit. She sets it onto the bed, flips open the lid, and picks out the supplies she needs from its contents. Looking back up at Link, she gestures towards his shirt. 

“May I?” 

“Oh, I can –” Link tries to pull his arms free but stops immediately when Rhett makes a sleepy, disgruntled sound. Link soothes him back into a peaceful state before he gives Jessie a sheepish look. “Maybe a little help?” 

Jessie gives him a small smile and unbuttons his shirt enough to expose the bite mark on his shoulder. Blood still oozes sluggishly from the mark, the mark itself ugly in shades of purple and black. Jessie grimaces in sympathy at the sight and quickly presses a gauze pad to the wound. 

“Link, I –” 

Link stops her with a shake of his head. “Don’t, Jessie,” he says with quiet emphasis. “It’s not like he can help it, and I’d rather he bite me than hurt himself. It’s okay, really.” 

Jessie’s lips compress into a thin, white line – because it’s not okay, it’s not _fair_ that this has happened to her family – but she only nods, not wanting to wake her husband or children with a pointless protest. She finishes cleaning the wound as quickly and efficiently as she can. It doesn’t take long. She’s had plenty of practice in recent months, on both herself and Link. 

Link watches her with worried blue eyes as she repacks the first aid kit and stows it back into the nightstand. He carefully tugs on his arms again and manages to free one without waking any of the three sleepers. Reaching across his chest, he catches her hand in his, startling her into looking up at him. 

“There’s something you should know.” He hurries to get the next words out at her look of alarm. “A good something, I promise. Jessie, this fit only lasted twenty minutes.” 

“Twenty … are you sure?” 

Link nods vigorously. “Surprised me, too, but I’m sure of it. It may just be a fluke, but if it’s not …” 

“Oh God, Link, if it’s not …” 

She squeezes his hand tightly between hers and bows her head over them for a long moment. Link feels a few splashes of hot wetness fall onto his skin and hears an indistinct but heartfelt murmur in the space between them. He whispers “amen” with her at the end of her prayer. Wiping at her eyes, Jessie looks back up at him, a wobbly smile on her face. 

Link eyes her thoughtfully. “You know, I think it actually was good for Rhett and the boys both. Might do you some good, too.” 

Jessie raises an eyebrow at this apparent non sequitur. “What might?” 

“A nap.” Link flashes her a crooked grin and pats the bed beside him. “There’s plenty of room. Why don’t you join us?” 

Jessie’s eyebrow rises higher into her hair line. “Are you serious?” 

“Why not?” 

“Why ...?” She shakes her head at him. “Don’t you want to get up?” 

“Nah, I’m okay where I’m at.” 

“Are you sure?” Jessie studies the somewhat twisted way he’s sitting and can’t believe that he’s as okay as he’s saying. “That position just doesn’t look all that comfortable.” 

“I’m fine,” he huffs stubbornly. “Now, why don’t you come on down here with the rest of us?” 

“All right,” Jessie finally relents. “I think I will. Just one thing first …” 

She reaches for the pillows that have spilled off the side of the bed at some point. Brandishing them at her co-conspirator, Jessie helps Link sit up far enough to arrange them comfortably against his back. He tries to hide his sigh of relief for the reprieve – his back has been _killing_ him, but he didn’t want to disturb Rhett – but Jessie hears him anyway and narrows her eyes at him in a wordless motherly scold. He looks about as sheepish as one of her boys at being caught out. 

Shaking her head at him just like she would one of her boys, Jessie tucks an errant lock of hair that had to be tickling the side of his face behind his ear. Link grins up at her, and that same swell of gratitude from before fills her heart. She didn’t know how she would have coped between Rhett and the boys without this man’s help, but she does know how incredibly lucky they all are to have him in their lives. 

Impulsively, she drops a quick kiss to Link’s forehead and whispers against the warm skin, “Thank you, Link. For … just for everything. Thank you.” 

She leans back to find Link’s blue eyes looking at her with understanding and compassion. “He’s my brother, Jessie. You and the boys are family. You don’t have to thank me. I want to be here. I _need_ to be here.” 

“I know,” Jessie answers with soft honesty. 

“Good.” He picks up one of the pillows not being used and holds it up to her. “Now, take this and ….” 

Taking the hint and the pillow, Jessie curls up behind Shepherd and reaches her arm over the boy to rest her hand on Rhett’s softly rising and falling chest. Her breathing soon evens out into the same slow, rhythmic pace as the rest of her family, and the room is once again shrouded in peaceful silence. 

Link gazes down on the four people sleeping with such trust in his care. In a few moments, he’ll text Christy to let her in on the good news, but for now, he allows this rare feeling of peace to fill him up. He doesn’t know what the future holds, doesn’t know if this is the start of a lasting good or not; but, laying here now, with his brother and his family held close and protected in his arms, Link doesn’t let himself worry about it. This moment is all that matters for now.


End file.
